A Love Story
by ivxvi
Summary: Marcus/Oliver. What started as a great semi-secret relationship between the two turns into something neither of them ever thought possible. Mpreg.
1. i:TheQuidditchMatch

**+THIS STORY WAS PREVIOUSLY DELETED BY ACCIDENT!! I'M SO SORRY TO THOSE WHO HAVE REVIEWED AND HAVE LISTED ME IN THEIR FAVORITES AND ALERTS!! (I THANK YOU, BTW, ALL OF YOU C: )+**

**Title: **A Love Story: A Lesson in Muggle Studies and a Quidditch Romance

**Summary:** Marcus/Oliver. What started as a great semi-secret relationship between the two turns into something neither of them ever thought possible. Mpreg.

**Pairings:** Marcus/Oliver, Terrence/Becca (OFC), Adrian/Darla (OFC), mentions of Harry/Draco

**Warnings: **Mpreg, slash, cousin incest (Adrian/Darla), cursing

**Rating:** R

**A/N: **please note that I have not read the last two books, and I don't really plan to. I sort of fell out the potter carriage a while ago and it was only just recently that I've been bitten by the Marcus/Oliver firebug yet again **c:** I guess you could say this is slightly AU as I'm not keeping everything in canon and am not keeping the characters very IC (but then again, how can you tell? They don't get much exposure on the Potter world unfortunately. Or I guess fortunately, because that makes it easier to shape them into whatever story line we want :D)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter and the characters, and no money is being made with this, but this story is mine.

* * *

_**1: The Quidditch Match**_

It was pouring all over the pitch. The sky was darker than Lord Voldemort's heart and the players were little more than flying buckets of water, leaking as much as the rain clouds overhead. There were giant enchanted torches all about the perimeter of the pitch, providing light but ignoring the rain and winds and never harmful to the touch. The ever-present lightning, however, seemed to provide much more luminance over the game than the firelight, flashing like paparazzi over the latest celebrity scandal.

Today's match was Slytherin against Hufflepuff and in all his five years at Hogwarts Oliver never saw Hufflepuff lose so badly. Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, star Chaser, and Oliver's own rival, shot a goal past the frazzled-looking Hufflepuff keeper. For a moment, he felt a little bad for her, but in Quidditch there is no room for sympathy.

"Another ten points to Slytherin!! That makes the score 360-nothing! Hufflepuff better get a move on, or not even the Golden Snitch could save them now!!"

The game was nearing its fourth hour and neither team Seeker has been able to come close to catching the Snitch, the ball that, with a 150-point prize, would usually mean victory. If within the hour no one catches the Snitch, Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff team Captain and Seeker, will ask for Marcus's consent on ending the game, because at this point, any beginning determination to win the game has left.

"AND THE SNITCH IS CAUGHT!! TERRENCE HIGGS MAKES A BRILLIANT CATCH _JUST_ AFTER ADRIAN PUCEY SCORES SLYTHERIN'S 370TH POINT, MAKING THE TOTAL SCORE 520 TO NOTHING! CONGRATULATIONS SLYTHERIN ON A JOB WELL DONE!!"

The stands erupted with noise as everyone stood up to cheer for Slytherin; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and the winning team's house (and whether it was out of relief for the game ending or genuine praise is anyone's guess). Oliver himself was clapping and yelling, because even though Gryffindor and Slytherin hold a slight animosity towards each other in just about anything anyone can think of, a game well played is a game well played. Since the match was in their favor, Slytherin had even kept cheating down to a bare minimum.

The Hufflepuff stands were especially quiet, and all around Oliver, the students evacuated the stands to get out of the storm and head quickly to dinner, but he was in no hurry to go just yet. Dinner was only served once you sat down, so there was no threat of a cold meal, and he was no stranger to being outside in inclement weather. He was, after all, the Gryffindor Quidditch team Captain--if he could not stand to play in this kind of weather, then there was no hope for him in the future. He watched as 14 players flew to the ground and dismounted, the Hufflepuffs a lot less ecstatic than the Slytherins. Cedric himself was looking a lot more burned about the loss than his teammates. Oliver knew that if he ever experienced such a staggering defeat he would just die. '_Or perhaps cry, depending on the opponent and the fairness of the match.'_

Moving his attention from the losers to the victors, he noticed the lot of them taking their time towards the Slytherin locker rooms despite the dangerously near lightning, the deafening thunder, the crushing winds, and the freezing rain. They were prancing about, whooping and hollering and wrestling, making a general fool of themselves as they celebrated the only way winners knew how. It brought a smile to Oliver's face, imagining how good it must feel to win 520/nothing in a Quidditch game. He watched as Marcus, Adrian, and Terrence ran around, the loudest of the group and the last to enter the changing rooms.

Sitting there in the rain and lightning, he reflected on his relationship with the Slytherin Captain. They have been playing for their respective teams for equal amounts of years, Oliver since his third year and Marcus since his fourth. People assumed their rivalry had started as soon as they acknowledged the other's existence, but that was not exactly the case. Oliver, not wanting to be another Gryffindor cliché, had wanted to befriend people from all sorts of houses, including Slytherin. When he tried to approach Marcus a few days before their first game with a warm smile, an outstretched hand and a wish for good luck, he met a semi-confused and semi-disgusted stare, before Marcus spoke. "Come Friday, our house is gonna crush your little team to bits before you can even say Albus Dumbledore sucks on pregnant pigeons so you can just keep your filthy little 'good lucks' all to your damn self, we _don't_ need them." He dislodged himself from his lean against the shady tree Oliver found him on and walked away without as much as a backwards glance. Spurned, Oliver too walked away and spent the day beating himself up for such foolish hopefulness. How _dare_ he think that he could befriend a Quidditch player from a different house? _'Silly me.' _he thought, angry with himself and hating how sensitive he was being.

After that, Oliver started to get things a little more and stopped trying to find excuses as to why he did not like or could not agree with a Slytherin other than the simple fact that they _were_ Slytherin. Being from different years--and therefore having different schedules--Marcus and Oliver hardly ever saw each other when off the pitch. When they did, they argued heatedly when one's taunts got a little too competitive and fresh for the other's liking, and have only once ever been in a near-brawl. That incident was on the pitch, when they were arguing whether a penalty awarded to the Slytherin team was fair or not.

He did not realize how long he's been sitting out there contemplating his and Marcus's rivalry until a particularly severe bolt of lightning struck the corner of the seat-box he was seated in, and Oliver decided now was a good a time as any to start heading back to the Great Hall to eat dinner. His friends were probably wondering what he was up to anyway_._

"Where ya _been_, mate?!"

"We were wondering if you hadn't drowned on your way to the Great Hall or something!"

"Are you alright?"

Fred and George's alternating questions and statements were something Oliver had quickly gotten used to when he first met them their first year.

"Sorry 'bout that. I'm fine, really. I just wanted to do a little last-minute watercharms practice before the teams came out. Our final exams for the year are coming up, and I honestly don't know if I'll do well this time around." Oliver tried to reassure them, but he could not tell if his fib was working or not.

"Aw, you'll do fine, mate. Don't sweat it!" George said, and Fred clapped him on the back.

* * *

Two weeks later, everyone was saying goodbyes and promises, boarding the Hogwarts Express to leave the school and head back home. Already Oliver was anticipating the next time he could mount his broom to fly around and practice his game. For now, though, it was all he could do to talk to his roommates and teammates and classmates about anything and everything they could possibly think of.


	2. ii:BackAgain

**Title: **A Love Story: A Lesson in Muggle Studies and a Quidditch Romance

**Summary:** Marcus/Oliver. What started as a great semi-secret relationship between the two turns into something neither of them ever thought possible. Mpreg.

**Pairings:** Marcus/Oliver, Terrence/Becca (OFC), Adrian/Darla (OFC), mentions of Harry/Draco

**Warnings: **Mpreg, slash, cousin incest (Adrian/Darla), cursing

**Rating:** R (may change later)

**A/N: **_please note that I have not read the last two books, and I don't really plan to_. I sort of fell out the potter carriage a while ago and it was only just recently that I've been bitten by the Marcus/Oliver firebug yet again **c:** I guess you could say this is slightly AU as I'm not keeping everything in canon and am not keeping the characters very IC (but then again, how can you tell? They don't get much exposure on the Potter world unfortunately. Or I guess fortunately, because that makes it easier to shape them into whatever story line we want :D). _Reviews make the world go 'round, but are completely optional :P however, if I don't get at least one review, I won't know whether or not to keep posting this story on here or to just keep it to myself. Thank you. _Hope you enjoy!! :D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter and the characters, and no money is being made with this, but this story is mine.

* * *

_**2: Back Again**_

Oliver was a sixth year now and he could not help the slight thrill he felt whenever he thought about it. _'A sixth year! I can't believe it--one more year and I'm outta here! Assuming, of course, I _pass_!'_ As he passed by several fidgety first years and seasoned seventh years, he made a comparison on the two with himself. When he first came to Hogwarts, he had _no_ _idea_ what to expect. Somehow, the stories his mom and dad told him just could not amount to the real thing, no matter how vivid his imagination got (and, with his one-track mind for Quidditch, "vivid" was not really very vivid). It did not take too long to get used to the routine, thankfully, and Oliver believed he adjusted pretty well. He made enough friends to never be too bored, and he made average grades (even though he wasn't on the team yet, he made sure to always abide by McGonagall's rules concerning the privilege to play Quidditch, and that included maintaining a C average or above+). The most trouble he ever got into was a detention from Snape. He botched up a rather basic potion in a most horrendous manner because, instead of paying attention to Snape's instructional lecture (which, at the time, he was pretty convinced was also a torture method used to keep his position at Hogwarts because why else would Dumbledore want to keep him around?), he was reading a Quidditch magazine.

Now that he was a sixth year, he knew better than to read a Quidditch magazine during class without insuring that a trusted buddy would let him read their notes later on or during class. If it was an unpartnered assignment, well, Oliver could get serious if he had to and would put the magazine away to listen. As for seventh year, well, he could only imagine how that must be. He wondered what sorts of preparations were made and how rigorous the courses might be. He knew that although there were much more expectations and responsibilities that came with being a seventh year, there came too a lot more privileges. Seventh years have that seniority and wisdom that the underclassmen didn't, and he couldn't wait until he was allowed the extra two free class periods in which he could do whatever he wanted--even go to Hogsmeade!

And so Oliver's thoughts carried on this way as he trekked downstairs from the Gryffindor towers to the Great Hall where the first breakfast was about to be served. Not noticing that his shoelaces were currently untied, Oliver tripped over his own feet right as he was about to descend a last set of staircases, causing him to tumble his way down and land in an undignified heap at the bottom of the stairs. He blearily noticed a group of Ravenclaw fifth year girls staring at him and laughing before trying to make his way upright to limp the rest of the way to breakfast. _'Now I _really_ can't wait until the year is over….'_

* * *

'_Fucking wonderful!!' _thought Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch team Captain since his fifth year and star Chaser, a seventh year student and current despiser of one Albus Dumbledore. He was storming his way to Runes, a rather interesting subject he usually found, thinking about what had soured his potentially pleasant breakfast. Marcus had already known from working out his seventh year schedule last year that he would be required to take a newly standardized subject--aimed more for sixth years than seventh--this term. It was a class he _really_ did not want to take and still could not figure out _why_ it had to be bloody _standardized_!! _'IN MY BLOODY FIRST SEVENTH YEAR TOO!' _he thought, glaring at a third year as he rounded a corner sharply. Marcus was _not_ looking forward to the Muggle Studies class at _all._ Seeing it again on his timesheet this morning had only managed to resurface his ire for Dumbledore and his stupid, ill-timed decisions. The only good news was that the class, Muggle Studies, was not on the schedule for today.

Making his way up a short flight of stairs, Marcus thought about what else was making him so angry lately. A lot has happened in Marcus's life and in his previous summer holiday to make him act a little temperamental, so anything that did not go his way caused the normally easy-going (if he liked you) teen to snap. He knew it was not fair, but with the changes that has or will be happening and the anxiety and stress that came with it, he felt justified being so.

Marcus sighed and tried to calm down; it would not do to be caught acting up over something as petty as a class he had not even took yet. _'Whatever. I just need one more year after this one until I inherit everything and can go on living my own life, playing for whatever team and dating whatever bloke, free from the messes of my father and Voldemort and all that crap. Golden Boy _Potter's_ still alive, so there's still a chance for the "war" or whatever to be over soon. All I know is that I had _better_ not be sucked up into all that! I just want to play Quidditch and be left alone_. _Just Quidditch. And maybe read as many good books as I possibly can….'_

Marcus found his first class for the day and sat as close to the back as he could, away from as many people as he could. Today was not a day he was quite looking forward to, either, and he hoped the Runes professor would take it easy for the first day.

* * *

"Man, what a _drag_!" groaned Adrian Pucey. The three of them, Marcus Flint, Terrence Higgs, and he were heading off to the pitch for a little three-on-three Quidditch practice and he was complaining about the amount of homework he received already.

"Do you seventh years even get this much homework?" he asked Marcus.

"Sort o-"

"I didn't bloody think so! Those _damn_ teachers with nothing better to do than pass out homework assignments… I bet it's the only way they can get their rocks off, thinking about the look on our faces while they fap at night because no one _else_ would wanna touch their junk. They prolly record all of Dumbledore's speeches too, cuz _Merlin knows, _nothing gets them off faster than listening to some old fart cough about _school_ and _Hufflepuffs_, and _Harry Potter's Fairy Dust Magic Pumpkin Nut Biscuits_!!"

Marcus and Terrence shared a look at that but said nothing as they continued to follow Adrian. His irritated mumbles carried on that way until they got to the pitch, at which point the other two boys told him to, "Shut the fuck up already!"

"Hey, are you guys scheduled for that Muggle Studies class?" Marcus asked as he tossed the Quaffle to Adrian.

"First thing Tuesdays," he said, shooting the ball inside the tallest hoop. They swung their attention to Terrence who was chasing the Snitch around leisurely.

"I've got it 10 o'clock on Thursdays," he said.

Marcus pursed his lips and nodded as he thought, _'Well that just bursts my bubble'_. "I get it on Fridays before lunch," he said.

"It's not fair! You'd think at least _one_ of us would share that class. Don't sixth and seventh years take it together this year?" Adrian asked. Marcus nodded again, and Terrence flew over, Snitch in hand.

"Marcus is lucky. He gets to take it the year it's been standardized," Terrence teased, dodging the Quaffle Marcus hurled his way.

"Har, har, _Terrence_, you're so funny. I nearly wet myself this time," Marcus retorted, glaring at his ex-Seeker.

Terrence tossed the Quaffle back to Marcus who tossed it into a hoop. He let the Snitch go and gave it a five minute head start, closing his eyes so that there'd be a challenge in finding it.

"So Terrence, why don't you tell Marky-poo what you did over the summer? Or rather, _who_ you did?" Adrian quipped with a sly grin.

Terrence grinned and said, "Oh yeah. On our trip to France, I ran into Becca again. _Man_, Marcus, I tell you. She just gets more and more gorgeous every time I see her…"

Marcus smiled, remembering who Becca was and how Terrence is absolutely taken with her. Marcus had only seen pictures, but he knew a lot about her, and, he imagined, she about him, through Terrence's stories. Becca attended Beauxbatons and was born and raised in France. She was literally of African decent, her parents immigrated with their families to Europe when they were little (an arranged marriage or something). She was perfectly bilingual, and even knew a little bit of her parents' native language, though what part of Africa that was Marcus never cared enough to remember. Becca and Terrence were about the same age and had been seeing each other since the summer before their third year. Adrian had family in France and so always went there to visit every summer. He invited Terrence and Marcus to come; Terrence accepted but Marcus declined. At a birthday party thrown by Adrian's aunt (from his mother's side) and uncle for their daughter Darla--his future bride, as he was to be in an arranged marriage--Terrence met Becca for the first time. She and Darla had been best friends since they met each other at Beauxbatons. Terrence and Becca have been together ever since and now every summer Terrence and his family take a trip to France.

"So why did Adrian say _who_ you did over the summer?" Marcus asked.

"Well, you know how Becca is really shy about… that?" Marcus nodded, he knew very well what Terrence meant by "that".

"Well, this summer, before I left, she gave me a very _special_ birthday surprise…." Terrence faded with a giddy grin. Marcus's eyes widened as he took in what Terrence told him and what it meant.

"You didn't… _you popped her cherry?! _Atta boy, there, Terrence! You're a man, now!" Marcus flew over with a wide grin and clapped the dirty-blonde on the back, shaking him a little. Adrian chuckled. Terrence just remained grinning, trying not to think too much on the memory lest he started to get excited. It was spectacular, she was more amazing than he could have imagined. They were both virgins, and Terrence imagined it just made it that more special.

"We'll have to celebrate! Next time we're at Hogsmeade we'll have to make a toast: to Terrence and his newly-gained manhood! May it never leave," Marcus said loudly, hugging Terrence to his side with one arm and outstretching his other as he described the toast.

"Aw, how beautiful, Marcus. You should make toasts for a living," Adrian teased, flying over to where they were, the Quaffle and the Snitch temporarily forgotten.

"Whatever. So how was it?" Marcus asked.

"It was… _great_," Terrence sighed out. He still had that goofy grin on.

"_Just_ great?" Marcus pressed.

"Can it, I'm not telling you any details," Terrence said.

"But I'd tell _you_ about my escapades…" Marcus wheedled teasingly with puppy-dog eyes. He knew Terrence would not mention anything more, and he was fine with that. Doesn't mean he won't tease him a bit.

"I don't _want_ you to tell me about your 'escapades'," Terrence said with a smile and he raced off to search for the Snitch.

"Sucking on a bloke isn't so bad, you know! It's great!!" Marcus called out innocently, a not-so-innocent-grin plastered on his face. Adrian laughed aloud and Terrence just shook his head. Diving down to the ground, Marcus recovered the abandoned Quaffle and shot a goal with it, Adrian waiting on the other side of the hoop to catch it and have a go.

Marcus was a very private person and did not like his business known to anyone who did not need to know. He knew how to respect other people's privacy and so he demanded the same. It wasn't until his third year, their second year, that he really discovered his sexuality (_'I don't really care for girls, and there's just something about a bloke…')_. When he was a fourth year, his friends wheedled him about girlfriends and such and he told them.

"You never tell us anything about it," they would complain, "Yeah, you never tell us anything!"

"We're friends; friends tell each other these things."

"Come on, tell us!"

"Don't be a little stick in the mud!"

"Are you afraid we're gonna laugh or something?"

"We promise we wont, right?"

"Right!"

"Tell us!"

At, which point, Marcus had quite enough and rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance. _'Now or never…'_

"When it comes to me and girls, you guys, I really can't tell you anything."

"Oh come on!"

"But why not??"

"Because I never had one." said Marcus

"…_Really_?"

"Not _one_?"

Marcus shook his head and raised a loose fist to examine his nails.

"_Why_??"

"…_Because._ I quite prefer the company of men." he said quietly. He was not ashamed, but it was his business and he preferred for it to stay that way. The two boys fell silent for a moment before one spoke up.

"…Oh…"

"…"

"Yeah," Marcus said bitterly, and he got up to leave, but the other boy kept him from doing so.

"Marcus wait, wait. W-we don't mind or anything, just a bit of a shock is all. We hadn't known…"

"Yeah, it's cool and everything. We didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. Sorry."

"Sorry."

"…It's fine." Marcus said, and sat back down on the mattress he and Terrence were sitting on, Adrian on a chair in front of them.

"Okay."

"Good."

They said, and smiled at Marcus, and Marcus could not stop the little quirk of his lips as he rolled is eyes and shook his head a little.

"So…"

"Uh… so what kinds of things do you do on your dates with _men_ then?" one of them asked uneasily, as if he did not really want to know but was asking to be polite. Marcus pursed his lips and snorted.

"Same kinds of thing _you_ do on dates with _girls_, I just do it with boys. And I don't think you really wanna know all the 'juicy details', so I'll spare you with a thanks for asking." Marcus said. They looked a little relieved and smiled at him again. They clapped him on the shoulder and moved on to a new topic, one that was more comfortable for the three of them.

They have been completely fine with him and his sexuality, and Marcus was very thankful for that. He did not make many friends, which was just fine with him, but the ones he did make were some of the best people he has ever known. Terrence and Adrian were his two best friends and he would not change them for the world. They did not make it awkward whenever he talked about boys (which he didn't do often anyway, as he usually did not talk about himself much), they listened and asked questions just as he would when they talked about their dates. They teased each other, but there was never disrespect when it came to one another, not even when they were angry and wanted the whole world to suffer.

Flying around some more, they teased and joked and laughed together until it was time for dinner. The sky was dark and the stars were as bright as the moon was full. It really was rather beautiful, but none of the three boys paid any mind to it as they walked up to the school, chatting and sweating, carrying their brooms on their shoulders and being happy to be back at school despite the sour apples they have bitten throughout the day. As the doors opened and golden light flooded the night for a brilliant moment, a final thought floated in Marcus's now calm mind. _'I guess it's not so bad being back…'_ The door shut, and the nighttime once again reigned over the atmosphere surrounding Hogwarts.

* * *

**+I'm an American, so I have no idea how Europeans do the grading scale. Sorry. Typically, an A is excellent, B is above average, C is average, D is below average (but not failing), and F is failure. Where I live, in order to play sports, you have to maintain a minimum GPA (grade point average) that's usually around a B's and C's average.**


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